


Dave Mutters to Self and is Gay

by moovelope



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dank Memes, Dave avoids conflict with the kool aid man, Dave is working through a bisexuality crisis, Humor, Karkat is an angsty teen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moovelope/pseuds/moovelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Alright, bite the bullet here Strider, admit it to yourself. The first step to healing is acceptance. Or at least the last step of grief. Maybe? Why does everything gotta be an AA program, handing out steps left and right. Except instead of all admitting that we're middle aged men with an addiction to getting sloshed and beating our wives it's more 'Step 1: have homolust thoughts. Step 2: freak out. Step 3: who the fuck knows. Step 4: acceptance."</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>What.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Hey wait shit is someone here?”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Fuck you said that out loud.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are currently bored out of your think pan. You're waiting for your newest movie to download (connection speed in paradox space can _unsurprisingly_ be a bitch sometimes) and all you could think to do in the meantime is sit in one of the many common areas and lie around in a blatant attempt for attention. You aren't even past admitting it anymore, you’ve gotten so pathetic. You would even be alright with Spider Troll accosting you with her usual shit just for some entertainment.  
  
However, your luck, as usual, is utter shit. Vriska is nowhere to be seen, probably tag teaming Gamzee with Terezi like two meowbeasts toying with prey. Or maybe she’s bothering the long-winded brigade, or maybe the two are just somewhere making out. You haven't had an opportunity to hang out with Kanaya in a while, you think petulantly, pushing yourself further into the couch as you sigh.  
  
You usually would be hanging out with Dave, but something crawled up his waste chute and died recently. For the past few perigrees you've been hanging out with him and the Mayor (bless his little heart) and just messing around with can town and music and movies.

It's been...bearable. Dave still can be an asshole, he still disregards most things about your culture, never shuts his fucking protein chute even when you beg him to, and always loves to get a rise out of you. But, you have to admit, he also makes a great friend. He's got your back in any situation (most situations regarding Vriska), does listen to you when you have "legit" problems (which apparently doesn't cover rants about quadrant shipping in films) and is, on rare occasions, funny. He’s had you in stiches on several occasions, both of you laughing too hard to breathe. He’s also pretty decent with his music, and the two of you have made a couple of songs together. Hanging out with Dave has been…nice.  
  
But _apparently_ that's all gone to shit too. You don't even know why exactly, which makes it even more frustrating. You could understand if he got sick of you, who wouldn't? You don't want to be trapped on a meteor hurtling through space with yourself; you can't imagine how other people feel with having to deal with your bullshit. Case in point: Couch hissyfit, population: Karkat Vantas.  
  
But, even with your astronomical level of ornery-ness and general unpleasantness, you honestly didn't think Dave was being bothered by it. In fact, he seemed like he enjoyed subjecting himself to your company! He just started ignoring you a few days ago, chilling alone with the Mayor and laughing it off like nothing was up.  
  
_"What's eating your ass Vantas? Not that there's anything actually. Eating it.  Oh god, I mean. I mean unless the toilets have been infected with some sort of booty pirate slugs that will take us unawares when we're pants down and defenseless. We'd never see it coming. One day you'll just go to the bathroom and then BAM alien (like super alien not even normal alien) slug gnawing away at your flesh. It was nice knowing you, plush friend. Rest in peace. Also yeah but anyway I'm busy doing stuff with the Mayor sorry."_  
  
-was the last thing he'd said to you. You usually tune out most of Dave's rambles, since he starts referring to earth presidents and pop culture that you're too lazy to look up. If he's going to be a cagey asshole then fine, you will wait until he crawls back on his hands and knees begging for your company. You aren't going to hunt him down and force him to hang out with you; that would be even worse than lying around moping.  
  
Resolution thus made, you nearly groan when you hear an unmistakable off key hum of the human in question walking down the hall. You briefly consider absconding from your position on the couch (burrowed under a few pillows and blanket), but you were here first, dammit. If he's avoiding you he's going to have to do it elsewhere. You've staked your claim on this land.  
  
He, of course, doesn't even notice you when he comes in, heading straight for the coffee maker bolted to the far wall. You can only hear his stupid, rhythmed, footsteps, since the couch is conveniently pointed the other way. You nearly gag as you hear him dial in what he wants; he's the only one on the meteor that trusts the stuff that pours out of the coffee machines. You think it looks absolutely disgusting.  
  
"Come on coffee sludge from hell, crank out faster," you hear him mutter, loudly. And everyone on this meteor thinks _you_ have volume control. At least you don't mumble to yourself like a crazed idiot.  
  
"I swear, if you're acting up again, I'll- I will sigh mildly in defeat, I guess," Dave continues, apparently settling in for a conversation with the thing. "That's how I'm facing all my troubles these days. Shits broken? Well best just leave it there. Don't know what to do about something? Well just avoid it, problem solved. I am the master of life skills up in here, even Rose is congratulating me on finding a more stressful way to deal with my problems."  
  
You blink up at the ceiling through three layers of blankets and throw pillows. Well huh, maybe the asshat has a good reason for not talking to you? If he's got stuff going on… but he _could have_ considered coming and talking to you, for shit flipping sake.  
  
Suddenly there's a pop and a hiss. A faint smell of smoke hits your nostrils.  
  
"Shit, really? This is the third one to crap out on me. You'd think chess slave labor put this meteor together or something," he mutters again. "Ugh fine reality. Fine. Alright, there's at least two more around here somewhere. I know I found one near the library down the way and then there's the other that's nearly all the way on the other end of the meteor or maybe I should stop being fucking stupid and stop avoiding shit."  
  
You nearly stir at that, having just been secretly enjoying Dave's bout of heavily deserved misfortune. He sounds serious, for once in his goddamn life.  
  
"Alright, bite the bullet here Strider, admit it to yourself. The first step to healing is acceptance. Or at least the last step of grief. Maybe? Why does everything gotta be an AA program, handing out steps left and right. Except instead of all admitting that we're middle aged men with an addiction to getting sloshed and beating our wives it's more 'Step 1: have homolust thoughts. Step 2: freak out. Step 3: who the fuck knows. Step 4: acceptance."  
  
What.

“Hey wait shit is someone here?”

Fuck you said that out loud.

You stay as still as you possibly can, not even taking the chance to breathe. This is not the kind of weird monologue of Dave’s that you want to interrupt. Outing your position on the couch would just make things 110% more awkward. A few seconds pass.

“Wow Strider, how paranoid can you be? You hear one little sound and then jump out of your fucking skin,” you hear Dave mutter. The light clank of footsteps against steel floors passes by your head on the couch. For a soul crushing second you think he’s going to plop his ass right on top of your hiding spot, oh god please don’t let him crush you under these blankets that would be the worst way to die—

You hear the shift of shitty couch springs across from you. He’s settling in oh fuck.

“Ok, gloves off. Time to face your inner demons. Demons? I meant emotions, god why can’t I just do this,” Dave continues to mutter.

You weigh your options. It might be awkward to burst out of the pillows of your blanket cave like a beast from that shitty movie Dave showed you a few weeks ago. But, you might scare the shit out of Dave. That would be hilarious and he’s always messing with you anyway. Serves him right to get a little of his own medicine. And, if you don’t do anything now, you might be trapped here for literal hours.

Thus resolved, you begin to shift—

“Ok deep breaths just say it out loud ok fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuck alright universe I have a HUGE fucking crush on Karkat—.”

You burst out of your blanket prison violently thrashing.

“WHAT.”

Dave emits one of the highest pitched screeches you have ever heard. You actually have to cover your ears for a second.

“WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK ARE YOU DOING THERE?” he half yells, half shrieks. If it were any other time you would have found it funny. He’s leapt back, nearly off of the couch, his face nearly the exact shade of his cape.

“No wait BACK UP, what did you say?” you yell, fuck volume control right up the ass.

“Nope, nope nope nope, not doing this holy shit,” Dave says, falling gracelessly from his perch on the couch and RUNNING out of the room.

You sit there; too dazed to follow him and torture him for more information (you know all of his ticklish spots. Information earned at the steep cost of him finding yours). So instead you sit there and just try to work through one thought.

“Dave has a crush on me,” you say aloud. It echoes back at you slightly in the room, which has oddly become slightly warmer? Even though you had just been under all of those blankets wow that’s weird. You realize that you’re hyperventilating a bit, which is really odd why would you be-?

It suddenly hits you that you might, just a tiny, miniscule, infinitesimal bit, might like Dave back.

“Ohhhh shiiiiiit,” you groan into your hands because this was _not_ what you signed up for and how could you have missed something so obvious?

You elect to hunt down Dave tomorrow and talk, you’re not sure your pump biscuit could handle it anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with 95% more memes. You might not want to read this on mobile, images don't always work well on there.

You are Dave Strider, and from here on out shall be known as ‘the hugest most embarrassing thing to ever grace this meteor holy fuck.’  You have an awful goddamn habit of putting your foot in your mouth, but this really takes the cake. This, this is why you shouldn't constantly be muttering to yourself all the time, because you never pay attention to who’s around you.  
  
So. Well. You've just accidentally admitted to Karkat that you like him. That you have a HUGE school girl level crush on him. He probably thinks you're doodling both of your initials on your notes in the back of math class or have a tiny pixelated picture of him tucked away in a locket with a bit of his hair.  
  
Actually, you're not sure if trolls have public schools. Or middle school girl crush tropes.  
  
The fact of the matter is that he _knows_. If you weren't sure you were crushing big time on him, you're sure _now_. Your heart nearly collapsed in on itself when he burst out of his little shitty hiding spot.  
  
You don't know what to do about all of it, but you sure as hell know you don't want to show your face around Karkat anytime soon. Good job Dave, letting a stupid crush get in the way of the best bro-ship you had on this meteor. Other than the Mayor, but. Oh shit, Karkat would probs be hanging out with the Mayor now that you aren't hanging out with him. There goes that idea.  
  
You grab your headphones, grab all of the fluffy comforters you’ve alchemized, and settle yourself into bed to ignore the world for a little while.

 

…

 

The next day you planned on just moping in your room like the angsty teen you are but your stomach is housing the Loch Ness monster or some shit. The grotesque gurgling was kind of interesting at first, but now it’s gotten so loud you’re starting to worry that there’s actually a creature in there.  
  
You decide to brave the storm and sneak into the kitchen. You thank outdated Earth Jesus that Karkat is nowhere in sight as you start digging around in the fridge. Peanut butter and jelly successfully made you're about to sneak back to your room when Rose and Kanaya come in, already dressed even though it’s nine in the hypothetical meteor morning.  
  
"Kanaya, I believe this is an omen of dark times, I fear we may soon face an apocalypse of some sort," Rose says in a flat voice, looking at you with one eyebrow quirked.  
  
"Morning to you too," you say, deciding to sit down at the communal table and maybe chat it up with your homegirls. Your compadres. Compadras? You remember dick all about Spanish.  
  
"It might not be the end times, maybe he's just deathly ill. Why else would he be up before noon?" Kanaya adds, watching Rose as she goes through the fridge. Kanaya takes a seat across from you as Rose sticks what looks like leftovers in the microwave.  
  
You take a huge bite of your sandwich before you say "Cahn a guh ee ha p ee jay eh peaf?" Kanaya watches the crumbs fly from your mouth onto the table. She looks pained.  
  
"Need some milk for that?" Rose asks, sitting down next to Kanaya. You swallow the wad of PBJ.  
  
"Nah I'm good. What are you guys up to today?"  
  
Kanaya brushes the crumbs off of the table. "Rose and I were going to research more about the session we shall be entering, as well as finding some new crocheting patterns—"  
  
"Kanaya's taken up the craft very quickly," Rose interjects.  
  
"If, creating a tangled mess that looks more like the original ball of woolbeast yarn than what it is supposed to. Then yes. I am quite nearly a master of the craft."  
  
You snort into your hand as Rose sighs.  
  
"At least you aren't getting caught in it anymore."  
  
"This is true," Kanaya says, looking a little more confident.  
  
"Don't worry Kanaya, if I were to try knitting a laptop cozy or whatever it is you're trying, I'd probably accidentally like. Stab myself with the needles or something. Or make something light on fire."  
  
"That would take a lot of skill to light a fire with needles alone," Rose muses, and for half a second it looks like she’s thinking about how to make that happen.  
  
Suddenly you’re hit with the most brilliant idea. Surprisingly it’s not ‘light something on fire.’  
  
"Hey wait guys. Um. Knitting, crotch whatever lessons. Are they open to the general public?"  
  
Rose and Kanaya look at you like you've asked to murder their first born lesbian love baby. Food drops off of Rose’s fork and lands with an awkward splat.  
  
"You want to...knit." Rose says, too flat to be a question.  
  
"Yup."

"Even though you have said, and I quote, that 'knitting was made by the devil to convince the puritans or some shit to make itchy panty hose to irritate their balls off' end quote."  
  
You don't remember saying that but it sounded hilarious so you hope you did.  
  
"Welp, obviously I can never change my mind about anything ever. I will be stuck in my backwards ways, never knowing the sweet caress of the knitting needle and the discovery of how wonderful it feels to create a tiny little cozy for all my tiny cozy needs."  
  
Rose glares at you.  
  
"Ok, no. I actually do want to try it out."  
  
A half hour later you get set up in Rose and Kanaya’s living space. There are rugs to cover the cold metal floor, alchemized lamps lighting up the corners of the rooms and fucking books everywhere. It looks like you walked into some shady bazaar right out of Indiana Jones and you wonder which of the two is responsible for the design choice. Considering the lack of tentacles, you’re leaning more towards Kanaya.

Rose gives you some yarn and shows you a quick basic pattern. After a couple of minutes you manage to get the basic motions down, and Rose leaves you to your devices. You think you might've gotten the hang of it (even though it looks clumpy as shit) but just sitting and dicking around with the needles is a bit mind numbing. Combine that with listening to the girls chatting up doomsday situations and slowly trying not to stab yourself with some needles over and over again and you’re starting to get bored.  
  
Actually, it gives you some time to just sit with your thoughts. You think about some new rap ideas then scrap them. Then you think about getting out your mixing gear, but then you'd have to get up and stop knitting. And you're knitting to avoid Karkat—  
  
And then you start thinking about Karkat's face, and how pissed he looked as he asked you what the fuck you had said, and god damn it you didn't mean to make everything weird between the two of you why couldn't you have kept your stupid mouth shut then you would still be friends and—  
  
"What do you guys think about like. Spaghetti as a meme? I bet you could make it happen. Not like spaghetti being used as a prop in a joke, the joke is just. A plate of spaghetti sitting there and no one is acknowledging it," you say too loudly in the dead quiet room. Rose and Kanaya barely stir.  
  
"Dave, if you're bored you can stop," Rose says, not picking her nose out of the goddamn tome she's reading.  
  
"Not bored, just thought I'd start up some lovely conversation after slaving for hours on needle work. My fingers are bleeding and I've got a song beating me into submission in my head."  
  
"What song would that be?" Kanaya asks from her seat across Rose, an only slightly misshapen scarf winding down in front of her.  
  
"I got it on my phone, let me show you," you say, whipping the thing out of your pocket and placing it on the table between the two of them. "Thank you for joining me in hell," you say as solemnly as you can.  
  
[The song floods the room.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ox0SWk9HS18)  
  
Hours later you have yourself the nastiest looking knitted creation in the history of forever, and two girls who keep humming to themselves and then growling in agitation.

 

…

  
  
The next day Rose doesn't seem too pleased to see you, but doesn't say anything as you plop your ass down in the comfy armchair in the corner.  
  
"Hey, ecto-sib. Can I just. Skip over knitting and get to crocheting? Isn't that easier or something?"  
  
She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I wouldn't say it's easier...but here, I'll show you."  
  
Ten minutes later and you decide that crocheting sucks too. At least this time you thought to bring your headphones. You crank up your music and keep stabbing your stupid needles into whatever weird sorcery is required to crochet.  
  
You nearly miss Karkat poking his head into the room, looking around until he sees you. You panic, just a bit.  
  
"Rose, can you help me figure out what the hell I'm doing wrong over here? Looks like I created some sin against nature with this." You ask loudly, making both Rose and Kanaya jump.  
  
"Perhaps Kanaya could help you, since she's been practicing and actually paying attention to what I tell her to do," Rose says. Kanaya looks up, looking a little pained.  
  
"I'm not sure I've mastered enough of the techniques to be able to teach someone else."  
  
"Nonsense, you certainly know more than Dave, which is all it will take to teach him something."  
  
Kanaya sighs and gets up to help you, turning around once to shoot Rose a look. You wonder what her deal is. You check the door and thank god, Karkat’s no longer looking for you.

…

  
The third day Rose sits you down, hands you a stretched bit of cloth and some thin thread.  
  
"Needlepoint. Figure it out," is all she says, quickly turning on her heel to get back to Kanaya.  
  
Turns out, needlepoint is _fucking awesome_. All you have to do is poke the string in here and there and then bam, picture. Fuck making a granny sweater, you're going to draw a dick with some string and you're fucking pumped.  
  
(The dick turns more into some unfortunate angles and rectangles but you accept that no artist started out creating masterpieces of threaded dicks.)  
  
Soon you get the hang of it enough that you can make some Sweet Bro and Hella Jeffs. Awkward angles and lumpy string work perfectly with their warped bodies.  
  
Rose checks in on you at one point and sighs. "You can work off a pattern you know. And you're supposed to have the lines closer together," she says, and shows you how to move the needle in and out quicker and closer together. You suddenly have the best idea for some goddamn needlepoint.  
  
An hour or two later you have in your hands the greatest piece of artwork ever created. The Kool-Aid man stares up at you with his dead eyes. Underneath him in janky looking letters it reads "it is my blood".

 

You're a goddamn genius.  
  
You consider showing it to Rose and Kanaya but...yeah no Rose's eyebrow has been twitching every single time you stop needling it up and holy shit Kanaya brought her lipstick with her today. Okay, you need to get out of their hair before shit goes down.  
  
"Be right back," you say, grabbing your needlepoint Mona Lisa. Rose hums in acknowledgement.  
  
You walk out of the room not quite knowing where you're headed. You want to show it to someone who'd appreciate it, but you're not sure who would properly acknowledge these ~dank memes~. Last time you showed Karkat the Kool-Aid man he just quietly whispered "That's fucked up," before going back to his book.  
  
Wait. You could totally show this to Terezi. You sent her some weird K-man stuff a few years back. And you haven't really seen her in a while. Look at you spending time with other people, being sociable! Definitely not doing it just to avoid the dude you've got a crush on nahhhh.  
  
Terezi and Vriska claimed the control room of the meteor when you first got on this thing. Back when you were a little wary of walking down random hallways and finding oddly colored spills. (You mean Troll Blood). (Like seriously how many of them died holy shit you accidentally bumped into a lot of blood it was not fun).  
  
You peak your head in to find Terezi sitting by herself on one of the consoles, munching on some weird Troll chips they keep alchemizing.  
  
"Who dares infiltrate the mighty Scourge Sanctum? All those who enter shall perish, even if they smell candy apple delicious," she says, pointing her cane and tilting her head towards you.  
  
"Even if the intruder brought a bomb ass gift?" You ask, strolling in.  
  
"Then I might reconsider! Depends on how much ass the gift is bombing," she replies, wiggling her eyebrows. You snicker. You'd forgotten how nice it was to chill with Terezi.  
  
You pull out your surprise from underneath your cape in the most dramatic flourish you can muster.  
  
"I slaved over a hot needle and string to bring you this," you say, and hand her the thing. She takes the canvas into her hands, brings it up to her face and then _violently_ licks her tongue across it.  
  
"How decadent!! The human beverage creature who bursts into people's homes!"  
  
"The Kool-Aid Man strikes again, needlepoint style," you say. "Also, not sure how well those strings hold up to water so you might want to keep it on a sniff basis."  
  
She gives it an extra lick.  
  
"Or eat it, whatever works for you."  
  
She laughs and it sounds like nails on chalkboard.  
  
"I'll try not to break it,” she says, and puts the needlepoint down next to her. “Now. Tell me what this visit is actually for."  
  
"What? Can't a bro make a loving handmade gift and come see—"  
  
"Don’t try to cover your tracks. We haven't hung out in months; there must be a good reason for you to come now."  
  
Shit. This was back firing spectacularly.  
  
"Sorry ‘bout not chilling, TZ. We're both busy people. You and Vriska plotting how we're gonna survive everything—"  
  
"And you hanging out with Mr. Licorice and Karkat in the expanding Can Town. How is Karkat?" she asks, quirking her lips in that weird way that makes it look like a question mark. Usually after she does that you spend five minutes trying to replicate it with your own lips and failing spectacularly.  
  
Instead of that you’re thinking ‘shit shit shit’ on repeat.  
  
"He, uh—" you stutter, trying to think of something quick before she goes in for the kill.  
  
"Woaaaaah who's this douchbag?" you hear behind you. For once in your life you're glad that Vriska has arrived. Terezi's attention turns entirely to Vriska, she even straightens up a bit towards her.  
  
"An intruder, but one who brings wonderful gifts."

"And nothing for me? How rude!" Vriska says, making sure to bump into you as she walks into the room.  
  
"Sorry Serket, didn't have anything spider themed prepared. Maybe next time," you say as you start to moonwalk the fuck out of there.  
  
She rolls her eyes as she drops some maps and documents out on the already covered table. "Like I need a stupid string spider thing lying around. Don't you have somewhere to be, Dave?"  
  
You take the dismissal in stride. "You're right, Serk. My people need me elsewhere. See ya later TZ," you say. Terezi's already wrapped up in whatever Vriska brought in.  
  
"Nice smellin' ya cool kid," she says, not looking your way.  
  
You sigh explosively as you get back in the hallway, glad to get away from that clusterfuck. Terezi would have flayed you until all of your homolust boy troubles lay strewn across the floor. You're honestly really annoyed with yourself. You're making things awful between you and Karkat, and you don't even have the guts to tell anyone about it because then you'd have to get into your hang ups on your fucking masculinity and homosexual ~feelings~ and you don't feel like droppin’ the discourse on anyone. You just kind of want to conk out in a pile of blankets and mix tapes and not think about your life choices.  
  
So of course that's when you turn the corner and nearly bump into Karkat.  
  
You stare at each other for a second as your brain races to think of something intelligible to say.  
  
"Hup."  
  
What in the actual fuck.  
  
"I meant hey, but then sup crept its way in there um."  
  
Your brain is fucking dead to you, you swear.  
  
Karkat recovers from your outright idiocy far too fast. He's stares at you for a moment, oddly concentrated. "Dave, I think—"  
  
"That I need a nap? Yeah dude, I'm bushed. Need to hit the hay, catch those z's. Need to count me some sleep sheep. Nice talking to yah, let’s do it again sometime."  
  
You fast walk it out of there like a middle aged mom jazzercizing violently down the sidewalk and try very hard not to screech at yourself in frustration.  
  
You ride out the anxiety inducing encounter in the blanket pile in your room. Maybe the trolls were on to something with the piles. You bury your head into the fluff and try to forget how uncomfortable Karkat looked trying to talk to you.

 

...

  
  
The next day you debate whether or not to hang out with Rose and Kanaya. They're used to doing their own thing and you've got a feeling you've been butting in a bit too much. But the alternative is sitting alone with your thoughts and your music—  
  
Oh wait, hell no you forgot your favorite headphones in there little Arabian carpet den. Welp, one decision made.  
  
You stroll into crotchet central around noon, and nod towards Rose and Kanaya. They're sitting on one of the couches reading together and it's sort of adorable but also hella PDA which you aren't used to from these two.  
  
"Afternoon, Dave," Kanaya says, looking up at you briefly before settling closer to Rose.  
  
"Sup Kanaya, sup Rose," you say before plopping down in your usual spot. Your headphones are right where you left them, hidden half underneath the table, you gotta sort of contort to get under there—  
  
"Dave, did something happen between you and Karkat?"  
  
You freeze mid reach.  
  
"The two of you haven't been spending time together the past few days," Rose continues. You grab the headphones and roughly pull them around your neck.  
  
"Uh, nah nothing happened? I don't know why something has to happen for a guy to want a bit of a change in pace, mix it up a bit and hang with different people."  
  
"Odd, usually there's some sort of catalyst for behavioral changes. You're sure nothing's wrong?" She asks. Her voice is too even, it sounds 110% rhetorical. She knows something's up and she's waiting for you to crack.  
  
Well. You're not about to give her the satisfaction. Old habits die hard.  
  
"Nah girl, we're cool. Nothing up between me and Karkat. Now I got me some needle that needs pointing so. Enjoy your book you two," you say, before grabbing your needlepoint shit and going to town on the thing. You can feel Rose and Kanaya's glares on your face; it feels distinctly like they don't believe a word you say.  
  
Fuck.  
  
It’s making your skin crawl a bit and you know they might start grilling you any second on what the fucks going down. Maybe Karkat mentioned something to Kanaya and they're going to give you the ‘Karkat's flattered, ok no, more just kind of creeped out, but he told me to tell you that he _definitely_ doesn't feel the same way so. Stop worrying about it.’  
  
Your foot is tapping a rapid fire beat on the metal floor and you've already pricked your fingers like twenty times in the past two minutes and you don't need this right now.  
  
"Dave—" Kanaya starts.  
  
"You know. I just realized I haven't eaten yet," you say, cutting her off at the pass. You don't even say you'll be back you just. Go. You actually haven't eaten so you grab as much junk food as you can from the kitchen and hole yourself up in your room.

 

...

  
  
There's a knock at your door a few hours later, everyone's probably eaten dinner already you rule out the idea that someone’s bringing you food to make sure you don’t starve.  
  
For a brief half second you think it might be Karkat wanting to talk and you're not sure whether your stomach drops in fear or jumps in anticipation but it does something fucking weird and you feel like you might get sick a little bit.  
  
"Dave are you awake?" you hear Rose ask through the door and oh. Yeah ok you need to chill.  
  
You open your door and find Rose, dressed in some pajamas that are surprisingly not her God Tier PJs. She hands you a piece of paper before saying anything.

It's an invitation to "Late Night Cinema Featuring Movies Of Dubious Quality And Popped Kernels." It's made with several layers of cardstock that's cut around the edges all fancy.  You look at the invitation and try to figure out if that much effort was put into it to spite you, or to apologize.  
  
"You can pick the first movie, if you’d like," she says. You look at her, sort of surprised.  
  
"You're sure? I kind of thought you'd want some time to yourselves. I mean. I've been chilling with you guys a lot and—"  
  
"Yes, you have. But, Kanaya thought it would be nice to do something different. And I know there are a few movies you've recommended to me that I haven't gotten around to seeing yet."  
  
You fight back a tiny smile. "Yeah, I can totally show you guys some movies."  
  
"Good, so we shall see you in an hour? Kanaya wants to get some snacks ready beforehand."  
  
"Oh hell yes. I'll make sure to pick something good for you guys."  
  
She nods and starts to head off when something occurs to you.  
  
"It's just the three of us, right? No Terezi, no Vriska, etc etc?"  
  
"Yes, just the three of us. Choose something good, and nothing more from Adam Sandler," she says, shooting you a glare. You try to marathon Adam Sandler _once_ and you never get to live it down.  
  
"Killjoy," you say as you begin to plot the perfect movie for the three of you to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who was too lazy to google knitting, crocheting and needlepoint? This bitch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion.

An hour later and you've got everything set up. The sound systems primed and ready for the beautiful masterpiece that is The Room, you're decked out in freshly alchemized red footy pajamas (with a hood that has little ears on it. It's fucking adorable, and will definitely beat Rose at stereotypical Pajama Party Warfare). You're waiting for Kanaya to show up with the snacks when you hear Rose's voice echoing down the hall outside.  
  
The door opens as you dive for the comfiest spot on the far side of the couch, decked out in pillows and blankets.  
  
"How's Kanaya coming along with the popcorn? Is she gonna have to wheelbarrow it in here because I am 200% alright with that,” you call out, checking the time on your phone because really, how _long_ does it take one space lesbian to microwave snacks?  
  
You hear the door close and then click. Sort of sounding like it does when it locks.  
  
"Your sister is a conniving shrew."  
  
You whip your head around. Karkat is standing by the door, dressed in his pajamas and one of his downright nastiest snarls.  
  
You blink, and then realize that your sister is a huge bitch.  
  
"The girls aren't coming, are they?" You ask flatly.  
  
"Considering Rose just locked us in here, I'd say they're fucking skipping shitty cinema times,” he sighs explosively and then walks over to the couch, plopping down with enough force to bounce. You get bounced a bit too, which causes the hood on your head to fall down a bit.  
  
Oh yeah you're wearing goddamn footie pajamas. With a hood. With ears on it. You have accepted your death. The rigid set to Karkat’s shoulders just makes you want to curl up and maybe die a bit on the couch.  
  
"What are we watching?" He asks, like things are still normal and you didn't fuck everything up a few days ago. Maybe he’s got amnesia. Maybe he decided to just never mention it again so that you guys could still be bros. Maybe—  
  
"Did you get hit on the head?" Your mouth spurts out. Karkat wrenches his gaze from the blank TV to stare at you.  
  
"Why in the nookscratching fuck would you think—?"  
  
Back pedal, back pedal, "It's just, you're acting normal so I thought—"  
  
"Wait, why would I need head trauma to _act normal_? Wouldn't you be more concerned for the safety of my think pan if I was acting shithive maggots?”  
  
"Nah man I'm just saying that it's weird that things _are_ still normal because like, you know..." Your hands are gesturing wildly in the air. You're not sure what you're trying to communicate with them.  
  
Karkat drags his hands down his face and makes a noise similar to a horse dying. It's the one he makes when he's frustrated as shit with you. Haha, yeah, you're pretty frustrated with yourself too.  
  
"Ok, sorry, I guess you were goin’ for 'act normal pretend nothing happened and that Dave didn’t just shove his entire foot into his mouth a couple of days ago'. I can roll with that. Just forget all—"  
  
" _Holy_ fuck, will you let me say _one word_ before you go and decide what I'm supposedly thinking??" Karkat explodes. He finally looks towards you, his face all scrunched up in anger. "You have been avoiding me like a grade A asshole for four days now, and a week before that! Thanks for that, made me feel like I'd somehow fucked up our friendship without knowing what the globe fondling shit I did wrong."  
  
You feel your stomach bottom out in guilt. "Oh dude, no I didn't mean—"  
  
"Yeah of course you didn't mean to, you were just being a wiggler and _avoiding your romantic issues_. I can't believe you made this into some pupa's first clichéd romance. Here I’ve been, losing my ever-loving sanity these past couple of days because _you_ couldn’t get your shit together. So, here I am, in all of my divine and apparently endless fucking patience, giving you the opportunity to try again. This time without all the stupid angsty bullshit."  
  
You just stare at him for a moment, no idea what he's talking about. He glares at you.  
  
"Dave, if you don't kick your think pan into gear I swear I will do it for you. Start. Over."  
  
You're kind of frozen in a weird state of fear, anxiety, hunger(?) and a tiny sliver of hope. Through the haze of your adrenalin flooded mind you get a vague idea what Karkat means.  
  
"I- uh. Um I think I uh—" you stutter out, cursing your tongue for tripping over itself the _one_ time you actually need to say something.  
  
Your eyes dart away from Karkat's stare and you notice that his hands are balled up into fists, probably to keep from shaking. You look back up to his face and realize that he's doing that troll blush of his; you can just about see the red tint through his thick skin.  
  
He's just as nervous as you.

The tension drops out of you, shrivels up and dies on the floor.  
  
"I think I really like you," you finally say. Out loud. To Karkat's face. You hold your breath as Karkat jolts a bit. He turns away from you, suddenly fucking enraptured with the blank TV screen again.  
  
"I- good. That was better," he says, his face getting even darker.  
  
"You got anything to say?" you ask, since you've already spilled your guts on the ground there's no risk in goin’ for gold.  
  
Karkat's fists are actually shaking now in his lap, but he turns to look you dead in the eye. "It took me a bit but, yeah. I like you too."  
  
That.  
  
Yeah.  
  
Yeah ok actually you are a middle school girl with a crush because your heart sort of feels like it's gonna beat out of your chest but _also_ you can feel it beating in your face too because HOLY SHIT.  
  
"I've never seen you smile this much," Karkat says as you're still freaking out.  
  
"Yeah it's actually hurting my face a little bit. Gotta exercise these puppies they're outta shape," you say, still smiling. Karkat looks away, but you can see that he's hiding a big stupid smile himself.  
  
"It makes you look like a serial killer, cut it out.”  
  
"Nope, my face is stuck this way forever now. Perpetually smiling Dave is what you have to look forward to in your future. You have created this monster."  
  
He turns and punches you in the arm, too soft to hurt.

“Then I’ll just have to fix your face. I don’t want your sister coming after me for breaking you.”

You laugh, only a touch hysterical. You’re working on it. “Dude, how would you even fix my face? Surgery? Are you gonna follow me around and hold my cheeks in place?”

He opens his mouth, probably about to tell you he’s going nowhere near your cheeks or something equally as witty, when he freezes. He looks just like something got caught in his verbal vomit editing department and gummed up the works. You’re about to ask if he’s alright, when he viciously grabs for the remote and thrusts it at you.

“Shut up and start the fucking movie,” he says, curling in on himself. You can see the tips of his ears are turning red along with the rest of his face and suddenly it clicks in your head.

“You were gonna say something cheesy like you’d kiss the smile off, weren’t you?” you ask, as soon as the thought hits your brain. A middle finger worms its way out of the pretzel Karkat has twisted himself up into on the other end of the couch.

You might actually need to take a time out from emotional show and tell because you can’t hear anything over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Maybe you’re gonna pass out. You hope not. You really hope not because you’re scooting over to Karkat’s side of the couch and crowding him against the armrest as he makes a sound like he’s dying.

“Fuck off, fuck off right to the other side of the couch and choke on your fucking smile for all I care,” he says.

“How would that even work, though? You’d be kissing my teeth, wouldn’t you? Come on Karkat, save me from myself, I’m gonna be stuck like this for the rest of my life without your smile CPR. I need a shot to my system, need to use these suckers for something other than frightening small children with my fantastic grin. Save me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only—”

You nearly jump out of your skin as Karkat reaches out and grabs your face. You had more to say. Probably. The expression on Karkat’s face makes it hard to remember anything. He’s staring directly into your eyes, part frustrated, part determined. Your mouth suddenly feels very dry.

Then he’s pulling your face forward and your lips are bumping up against each other and how the fuck are you supposed to kiss with both of your noses getting in the way? Wait, yeah you just have to tilt a little bit there and—

“Holy shit, you’re still fucking smiling, stop,” Karkat complains against your cheek.

“Obviously you’re just not trying hard enough.” Actually, you honestly think your face might just be stuck this way, but you egg Karkat on all the same.

He pulls back to glare at you, his eyes fierce. And determined. You feel a shiver shoot down your spine.

“I’ll take that challenge,” he says as you’re pulled back in for some quality sloppy makeouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally part of chapter 2 but then I was like "Nah last chapter should be in Karkat's perspective again," so I scrapped this and started writing Karkat's and then it just...fizzled out and died. So I tried again. Nope. Then I realized I nearly had it all written out anyway and decided I should just finish it up already.
> 
> [Here's some extra bits that didn't make it.](http://moovelope.tumblr.com/post/138772115037/just-finished-up-my-fic-dave-mutters-to-self-and)


End file.
